He turns around––he heard you. When he sees you and his eyes widen just slightly with what looks like surprise, you don't know whether to be relieved or terrified. You're too scared to even speak and he's already gone. Dang it. He probably absconded, afraid you were here to cull him and––no! No no no! 

You open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out but a shuddering wheeze as the troll brings down a [i]corn-shucking, diddly-gosh-darn pickaxe[/i] just above your head. Bits of rock tumble onto you, and your chest is heaving faster than it ever has and you can't seem to get enough air. You writhe briefly, and then the stranger's grasping your shoulders, and you pop right out of the narrow hole that was almost your tomb, like a baby mammal out of its ancestor's nook. (That is such a disgusting thought, and it makes you shudder.)

Carefully, you lift your head from the dirt and regard this weird, white-haired troll as if he's grown a second head. And, predictably, you ask, "Are you out of your mind?"